Anima di Nerezza
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Part 1-Names for faces
I stood in absolute darkness. Or, more correctly, I hovered in absolute darkness. I felt no ground, but nor had I any feelings of weightlessness. I couldn’t see my hand in front of my face, but I could see for miles in front of me. Mass confusion clouded my thoughts. Through my mental discord, however, a voice spoke.
“Mortal, you have done more than you know,” spoke Mehrunes Dagon. “By setting forth in a quest to restore balance to your precious little faction, you have embarked on a journey to rival the greatest of heroes, or the most notorious of villains. You have made me glad that I have restored the gift of life unto you. Continue to do so, and you will be granted many things.”
Feeling somewhat bold with the Daedra’s compliments at my back, I asked a question of the Daedra. “My lord, I have encountered several obstacles in my path, yet I know nothing about them. Can you tell me anything of them?”
As if thinking for a moment, the Daedra paused before he spoke again. “I know of these obstacles. The Redguard, be wary of him. You may never truly know of his allegiances. As for the mysterious woman whom you despise, she is… a servant of another. Sheogorath is her master.” Having satisfied my meager wishes, the voice of Dagon vanished, as did the darkness. When my vision cleared, I was still seated at the Leaping Lion, staring at my half-empty mug. The conversations still continued. Nothing seemed to have changed. But as I gazed into the dark liquid of my mug, my reflection showed something different.
My eyes: one red, another blue. I hoped that it was just the alcohol, but after staring for some time, I concluded that it was real. Ah, but another sign of the Daedra’s control of my life. Angry, but at the same time excited, I got up and left the tavern.
Can’t you see? He’s helping you. He has given you gift after gift, said one side of my mind.
No, what he’s given me is multicolored eyes! What help is that? said the other half.
People don’t have to see you eyes. You could wear a hooded robe all of the time, and no one would know the difference.
No, if I wore a hooded robe, someone might mistake me for the Thing, the servant of Sheogorath.
Plenty of people wear robes and cover their faces. She isn’t the only one.
Maybe… maybe you have a point. After finally ending the psychological warfare going on in my head, I walked over to the nearest clothier. The shop was a small, bright haven of clothing. The shop keeper was a short Imperial woman. The radiance of her blonde hair was only magnified by her ruby red lipstick.
No…no… it can’t be her… it isn’t! I stared for a moment at the lady, until the mirage faded into the actual shop keeper, who had brown hair and no make up whatsoever. I really needed to quit drinking.
“Are you alright, miss?” she asked worriedly. “You look… by the Nine! What’s wrong with your eyes?”
“Er… just a problem from when I was born,” I lied, and ducked my head. My face must have turned shades redder than the Thing’s lipstick, for I certainly felt humiliated. I hastily picked out a midnight blue robe, for they had no black, and took it to the keeper. I persisted in locking my eyes to the floor, but I could still feel her curious stare.
I dashed out of the store and ducked into a dark alley to put on my cloak. Pulling it on over my head, and consequently blinded, I was nigh helpless when the rough hands grabbed me. They picked me up, slung me over the shoulders that they were connected to, and took me into a vacant building.
I was rudely dropped on a table while the robe was ripped off from over my head. The face that hovered above me can only be described as hated. Despised, loathed, reviled. Anything would do the trick. But still, for a minute, words escaped me. The hands tied me to the table with strong ropes, and finally I yelled out.
“It’s you, the Thing!” I screamed with the anger rising in my voice.
“My, my, you could at least call me Maria,” said the Thing, or Maria, as she wished to be called. She raised a jagged dagger above her head without another word. As she curved it towards me, I found myself squeezing my eyes shut.
Full Version: Anima di Nerezza Chapter 4
What a dreadful situation your character is in. It would seem that she is about to die, again, but perhaps you have something more interesting planned? The bit with the eyes was intriguing; I'm looking forward to seeing how her new self/selves deal with this.
New eyes and one big headache aproaching. I can't wait till your next update.
Part 2- Truth Unveiled
I didn’t scream. I didn’t even do as much as open my mouth. It would have been wasted breath, for the only noise that prevailed was a faint ripping. No pierced flesh, not even a cut. My body was unharmed. I opened my eyes and raised my head to observe the scene. My shirt was cut straight down the middle. Maria was pulling it off.
“You lousy little…” I started, but wasn’t allowed to finish, for the Thing threw my head against the table. She succeeded in throwing it away from me. Bracing myself for the worst, I struggled against the ropes. As I did so, Maria grabbed the dagger, which she had tossed away earlier, and cut a thin line directly below my bare chest. Her eyes lit up with immoral delight as she licked the oozing blood off of me. She raised her head and moaned as a starving man who had only recently reacquired the taste of food. Opening her mouth to lick the spare blood off of her teeth, I realized why.
I brought to mind the disturbing happenings of the night before. I remembered the murdered guards lying in oceans of blood. Maria had been completely unarmed, with not even a rock at her disposal. I recalled lunging at her, with intent to kill, and completely missing, though she had stood right before me not a second earlier. Then she had dropped me like a stone with a punch to the back. She had disappeared. She was not even human. She was a vampire. I revisited the tavern before I had left on my failed mission. I look so delicious… not in the appearance… I’m her food. Maria was a bloodsucker, a night walker. A vampire.
Having satisfied only part of her thirst on my chest, she went for my neck. She had barely laid her fangs on my throat, though, before she stopped. Her eyes gave off the all-familiar look: the distant gaze, the dimming light. Her face slumped on my neck, and I saw an arm protruding from her back. I was relieved, to say the least, but not so much when I recognized the face.
“Why can’t you just leave me alone,” I muttered, completely aggravated. The Stranger was elbow deep in vampire. He had stuck his hand straight through her stomach. As he retracted his arm, he also through the body off of me and cut my ropes. Turning respectfully, he threw me my newly purchased robes. After I was finally changed and hooded, I got my first true look at him.
He wore a tattered black cloak, with matching clothing underneath. His hands and arms were gauntleted, but other than that, he wore no armor. At his side hung, quite loosely, an arched blade: a katana. It was an odd thing, indeed, for the Stranger to wield a katana. Such weapons were the symbols of warriors who lived by a code of honor, but were rare in the Cyrodiil province.
“I’m finished,” I said, after which he turned to face me. He stood there for quite some time, as if deciding what to say and how to say it.
“I’m… sorry for the other night. I probably should have helped you, but I had… other things to do,” he finally said.
“Well, in spite of your lovely little apology, this doesn’t change things between us. The fact still remains that you left me to die in Gallias’ home. I won’t forgive you for that.”
He was still for a moment, taking this in. He eventually said, “Fine then. I’ll be leaving.” With a brisk turn of the heel, he stepped outside and was gone.
“Wait!” I cried hastily. “What’s your name?” Silence. I had cried in vain. I felt like an idiot.
“Sirin. Sirin Kalimian,” came a voice from the alley. Ah, so he was a stranger no more, nor did I feel so ashamed. I sat in quiet for some time before I decided to go back to my room.
I sat on my bed for the better part of an hour, contemplating my second chance at life thus far. Many were pleased in my efforts to lead a “normal” life. Vercindelle would certainly be happy. I hoped Kerric was happy. Mehrunes was happy. Ah, the Daedra surfaced again! I realized how much I was coming to think about him. Regardless, I had also made quite the list of foes. Geryss the Breton was my non-aggressive enemy. Maria was obviously my enemy, for though she had met her very brutal end, I had no doubt that the vampire would be back for more. She was a very persistent enemy. With her was the entitled ‘Mad God’ Sheogorath, a rather strange enemy, but an enemy nonetheless. The Stranger… Sirin, I knew not what to think of him.
You may never truly know of his allegiances. Indeed, I would never know. One night, he was throwing me off of a ledge; the next, he was apologizing for such crimes. I would still have counted him an enemy. What did Mehrunes know about him, I wondered? He obviously knew enough to caution me against Sirin. The anticipation invigorated me, but I knew I would need patience to uncover the carefully laid sands of secrecy.
I promptly decided that no progress would be made in idleness, so I left my room and made my way to the Leaping Lion again. I left the warm inn, venturing into the cold night. There were few civilians wandering the streets of the Imperial City that particular night. There was only me and the city guard. With my own interests in mind, I pulled my hood over my head. I had no wish to draw attention.
I didn’t scream. I didn’t even do as much as open my mouth. It would have been wasted breath, for the only noise that prevailed was a faint ripping. No pierced flesh, not even a cut. My body was unharmed. I opened my eyes and raised my head to observe the scene. My shirt was cut straight down the middle. Maria was pulling it off.
“You lousy little…” I started, but wasn’t allowed to finish, for the Thing threw my head against the table. She succeeded in throwing it away from me. Bracing myself for the worst, I struggled against the ropes. As I did so, Maria grabbed the dagger, which she had tossed away earlier, and cut a thin line directly below my bare chest. Her eyes lit up with immoral delight as she licked the oozing blood off of me. She raised her head and moaned as a starving man who had only recently reacquired the taste of food. Opening her mouth to lick the spare blood off of her teeth, I realized why.
I brought to mind the disturbing happenings of the night before. I remembered the murdered guards lying in oceans of blood. Maria had been completely unarmed, with not even a rock at her disposal. I recalled lunging at her, with intent to kill, and completely missing, though she had stood right before me not a second earlier. Then she had dropped me like a stone with a punch to the back. She had disappeared. She was not even human. She was a vampire. I revisited the tavern before I had left on my failed mission. I look so delicious… not in the appearance… I’m her food. Maria was a bloodsucker, a night walker. A vampire.
Having satisfied only part of her thirst on my chest, she went for my neck. She had barely laid her fangs on my throat, though, before she stopped. Her eyes gave off the all-familiar look: the distant gaze, the dimming light. Her face slumped on my neck, and I saw an arm protruding from her back. I was relieved, to say the least, but not so much when I recognized the face.
“Why can’t you just leave me alone,” I muttered, completely aggravated. The Stranger was elbow deep in vampire. He had stuck his hand straight through her stomach. As he retracted his arm, he also through the body off of me and cut my ropes. Turning respectfully, he threw me my newly purchased robes. After I was finally changed and hooded, I got my first true look at him.
He wore a tattered black cloak, with matching clothing underneath. His hands and arms were gauntleted, but other than that, he wore no armor. At his side hung, quite loosely, an arched blade: a katana. It was an odd thing, indeed, for the Stranger to wield a katana. Such weapons were the symbols of warriors who lived by a code of honor, but were rare in the Cyrodiil province.
“I’m finished,” I said, after which he turned to face me. He stood there for quite some time, as if deciding what to say and how to say it.
“I’m… sorry for the other night. I probably should have helped you, but I had… other things to do,” he finally said.
“Well, in spite of your lovely little apology, this doesn’t change things between us. The fact still remains that you left me to die in Gallias’ home. I won’t forgive you for that.”
He was still for a moment, taking this in. He eventually said, “Fine then. I’ll be leaving.” With a brisk turn of the heel, he stepped outside and was gone.
“Wait!” I cried hastily. “What’s your name?” Silence. I had cried in vain. I felt like an idiot.
“Sirin. Sirin Kalimian,” came a voice from the alley. Ah, so he was a stranger no more, nor did I feel so ashamed. I sat in quiet for some time before I decided to go back to my room.
I sat on my bed for the better part of an hour, contemplating my second chance at life thus far. Many were pleased in my efforts to lead a “normal” life. Vercindelle would certainly be happy. I hoped Kerric was happy. Mehrunes was happy. Ah, the Daedra surfaced again! I realized how much I was coming to think about him. Regardless, I had also made quite the list of foes. Geryss the Breton was my non-aggressive enemy. Maria was obviously my enemy, for though she had met her very brutal end, I had no doubt that the vampire would be back for more. She was a very persistent enemy. With her was the entitled ‘Mad God’ Sheogorath, a rather strange enemy, but an enemy nonetheless. The Stranger… Sirin, I knew not what to think of him.
You may never truly know of his allegiances. Indeed, I would never know. One night, he was throwing me off of a ledge; the next, he was apologizing for such crimes. I would still have counted him an enemy. What did Mehrunes know about him, I wondered? He obviously knew enough to caution me against Sirin. The anticipation invigorated me, but I knew I would need patience to uncover the carefully laid sands of secrecy.
I promptly decided that no progress would be made in idleness, so I left my room and made my way to the Leaping Lion again. I left the warm inn, venturing into the cold night. There were few civilians wandering the streets of the Imperial City that particular night. There was only me and the city guard. With my own interests in mind, I pulled my hood over my head. I had no wish to draw attention.
You just couldn't control yourself, did you? You had to put yourself in as this mysterious guy. Great update. Oh boy, this second life sure is hectic what with vampires, weird eyes and strange people and all. Keep it up!
Part 3-The Next Target
When finally inside of the Lion, I discovered an unfamiliar place. At this hour, I discovered that the Leaping Lion was next to vacant. I was close to expressing my surprise, but held my tongue. My business was not to notice such trifles. My business was to bury a blade in the face of whoever needed to die.
Inside the back room, however, the atmosphere was no different. Vercindelle was still seated at his large, wooden desk. The thought occurred to me that, save whenever I had almost broken my legs, he was always in his office. A boring life my old friend led.
“Good evening, Vercindelle,” I said upon being seated.
“Why the sudden change in clothing, Mabriel?” he asked curiously.
“Not important. What is important, though, is that the one whom I said was dead truly isn’t.”
“This is grave news, indeed. What makes you so sure of this? You did see her die with your own eyes, correct?”
“Yes, just the same as seeing her alive this very night. I have no doubt that it was the same. I even have a name, now: Maria. She told me herself,” I replied defensively.
“No need to be so edgy, Mabriel. I believe you all the same. It’s just… difficult to take in. Her resurrection, I mean.”
“Well… there is one other thing. She’s…”
“Yes?” he said in anticipation.
“A vampire. Maria is a vampire. She tried to suck the blood straight out of me.” I said, shuddering at the thought of it. Vercindelle sat in silence for some time, musing on this new knowledge.
“This means… this means we need to kill the remaining eight even quicker, now,” he finally told me.
“How do you figure that, Vercindelle?”
“If she’s a vampire, she isn’t going to die. Well, she CAN die, but we don’t have the equipment to do it. This is something the Imperial Cult should handle, and I don’t fancy they would help criminals. If she is so hell bent on killing you, you must take out the rest before she succeeds.”
“If that’s the way things are, Vercindelle, then we must make haste,” I said resolutely.
The Altmer immediately gave me my next assignment, the murder of the second of the bunch. His name was Raziel, or so Vercindelle had told me. He was an orcish man with high ranking in the Imperial Legion. I believe he was said to be a captain, or something of the like. He resided in his personal, grand quarters in the Imperial Castle. I was told to expect heavy resistance, but none from the orc himself. Years of retirement had softened the former warrior.
I was not given any new equipment, but I needed none to begin with. I was more than pleased with my current inventory. The mission was to take place that night, with little room for spare time. If indeed Maria, or even Sirin, were to interfere with this mission, things would certainly go awry. I was certain that, this time, my target would not be murdered for me.
I learned from Vercindelle, who was told by one of his many informants throughout the City, that Raziel was to see a… “woman” that night. Due to the depraved state of this woman’s occupation, the orc would not know who he was to meet for certain. Instead, the woman’s “keeper” would send any random girl. This would be taken to my advantage in the fullest. A dagger in the back, maybe a quick change of clothes, and I would be within killing reach of Raziel.
She would most likely not be guarded, so I would have a straight and clean shot. I had a tip on what the girl would look like, so I set out in the City and began my hunt.
I awaited the arrival of my secondary target atop the rooftop of a smithy, which was conveniently located near the castle. However, due to the proximity of the Imperial Castle, I would need to be tenfold more subtle in the assassination, or seizure, of the girl. A light mist shrouded the brilliance of the full moon and also masked my position. Below me, a guard patrolled the mostly barren street. I was not worried about him, though, for one guard could not stop me. It was unlikely that I would even be detected by him. I was too skilled for such trivial matters. Whatever I stress I harbored against him was soon extinguished, for he rounded a corner and left the road vacant.
This was none too soon, for I spotted my girl approaching the castle, only twenty meters from my spot. I changed my stance, as I was previously sitting, to a low crouch. Ever so quietly, I gripped my dagger and pulled it free from the metal sheathe. Fifteen meters away.
I inched forward until my toes were gripping the edge of the roof. Ten meters. The girl matched the descriptions: medium height, long red hair, human, green cloak. She was no more than six meters away when I glimpsed her face.
“Oh no,” I whispered, dreading the very moment. Maria walked below me. That vampiric servant of the Mad One, she was my secondary objective.
When finally inside of the Lion, I discovered an unfamiliar place. At this hour, I discovered that the Leaping Lion was next to vacant. I was close to expressing my surprise, but held my tongue. My business was not to notice such trifles. My business was to bury a blade in the face of whoever needed to die.
Inside the back room, however, the atmosphere was no different. Vercindelle was still seated at his large, wooden desk. The thought occurred to me that, save whenever I had almost broken my legs, he was always in his office. A boring life my old friend led.
“Good evening, Vercindelle,” I said upon being seated.
“Why the sudden change in clothing, Mabriel?” he asked curiously.
“Not important. What is important, though, is that the one whom I said was dead truly isn’t.”
“This is grave news, indeed. What makes you so sure of this? You did see her die with your own eyes, correct?”
“Yes, just the same as seeing her alive this very night. I have no doubt that it was the same. I even have a name, now: Maria. She told me herself,” I replied defensively.
“No need to be so edgy, Mabriel. I believe you all the same. It’s just… difficult to take in. Her resurrection, I mean.”
“Well… there is one other thing. She’s…”
“Yes?” he said in anticipation.
“A vampire. Maria is a vampire. She tried to suck the blood straight out of me.” I said, shuddering at the thought of it. Vercindelle sat in silence for some time, musing on this new knowledge.
“This means… this means we need to kill the remaining eight even quicker, now,” he finally told me.
“How do you figure that, Vercindelle?”
“If she’s a vampire, she isn’t going to die. Well, she CAN die, but we don’t have the equipment to do it. This is something the Imperial Cult should handle, and I don’t fancy they would help criminals. If she is so hell bent on killing you, you must take out the rest before she succeeds.”
“If that’s the way things are, Vercindelle, then we must make haste,” I said resolutely.
The Altmer immediately gave me my next assignment, the murder of the second of the bunch. His name was Raziel, or so Vercindelle had told me. He was an orcish man with high ranking in the Imperial Legion. I believe he was said to be a captain, or something of the like. He resided in his personal, grand quarters in the Imperial Castle. I was told to expect heavy resistance, but none from the orc himself. Years of retirement had softened the former warrior.
I was not given any new equipment, but I needed none to begin with. I was more than pleased with my current inventory. The mission was to take place that night, with little room for spare time. If indeed Maria, or even Sirin, were to interfere with this mission, things would certainly go awry. I was certain that, this time, my target would not be murdered for me.
I learned from Vercindelle, who was told by one of his many informants throughout the City, that Raziel was to see a… “woman” that night. Due to the depraved state of this woman’s occupation, the orc would not know who he was to meet for certain. Instead, the woman’s “keeper” would send any random girl. This would be taken to my advantage in the fullest. A dagger in the back, maybe a quick change of clothes, and I would be within killing reach of Raziel.
She would most likely not be guarded, so I would have a straight and clean shot. I had a tip on what the girl would look like, so I set out in the City and began my hunt.
I awaited the arrival of my secondary target atop the rooftop of a smithy, which was conveniently located near the castle. However, due to the proximity of the Imperial Castle, I would need to be tenfold more subtle in the assassination, or seizure, of the girl. A light mist shrouded the brilliance of the full moon and also masked my position. Below me, a guard patrolled the mostly barren street. I was not worried about him, though, for one guard could not stop me. It was unlikely that I would even be detected by him. I was too skilled for such trivial matters. Whatever I stress I harbored against him was soon extinguished, for he rounded a corner and left the road vacant.
This was none too soon, for I spotted my girl approaching the castle, only twenty meters from my spot. I changed my stance, as I was previously sitting, to a low crouch. Ever so quietly, I gripped my dagger and pulled it free from the metal sheathe. Fifteen meters away.
I inched forward until my toes were gripping the edge of the roof. Ten meters. The girl matched the descriptions: medium height, long red hair, human, green cloak. She was no more than six meters away when I glimpsed her face.
“Oh no,” I whispered, dreading the very moment. Maria walked below me. That vampiric servant of the Mad One, she was my secondary objective.
Ay, that vampire is really getting on our assassin's nerves. She just won't die! I'll be looking forward to see how she deals with the vamp.
for those who care, I finished chapter 5 yesterday. I have to say, it's quite interesting, or so says the author. I enjoy reading the comments. keep reading!!! 
any constructive criticism is welcome.
any constructive criticism is welcome.
Many thanks to all who have stuck with me and kept reading my crap, regardless of what you really think of it. This chapter doesn't have as much action, but there has to be a boring one every now and then 
Part 4- Acting the Part
She’s here to kill the same target as you, said the familiar voice in my head. She killed Dante Gallias, and now she’s here to kill Raziel. She was directly to my right when I leaped off of the roof. Landing silently behind the bloodsucker, I grabbed her blood red hair and slammed it through the display window of the smithy. She didn’t struggle as I jumped into the store and dragged her in.
“Don’t speak and there won’t be trouble,” I said to the frightened storekeeper. He nodded in agreement and cowered back to the nearest wall. I pulled Maria into a separate room and slammed the door shut. Dropping her crudely onto the floor, I pointed my dagger at her throat.
“What are you doing here? Are you out to kill someone?” I demanded, prepared to pin her to the floor, regardless of whether or not she would stay dead.
“I suppose I am, Dunmer. I was planning on having some fun first, though,” she replied in her usual seductive voice.
“Who are you going to kill, Maria?”
“Oh, just a mean old orc, if you must know. My, did you change somehow? Whatever you did, it certainly makes you look more luscious. I could drink you dry right now if you weren’t pointing that nasty blade at me.”
“Shut up, you depraved witch,” I screamed at the lip-licking vampire. I knew what she was talking about. I knew EXACTLY what she was talking about.
“Oh, now I see! Those eyes, they’re just gorgeous, Dunmer. They must… mean something.”
“How soon do you wish to die?” I seethed bitterly. I was quite honestly primed to answer that question for her.
“Ah, the eyes of Mehrunes Dagon’s little servant! That’s where I recognize them! The gaunt young girl and several others before you. I lived long enough to put significance to those eyes. So, you’re a puppet of Mehrunes now?” Once again the devil, Maria, licked her lips in delight.
“And you,” I spoke out of hatred, “are the servant of Sheogorath. You are an insane harlot.”
“That is what I am,” she exclaimed with sarcastic pride. “An insane harlot. Doesn’t that just fit me? Well, things are interesting again. Two servants of Daedra in eternal conflict.”
“Not quite, Maria. When I learn how to kill you for good, I will never have to worry about you again. This I promise you.” Finally ending this infuriating rant from the vampire, I kicked her head with rage driven force. Her eyes fluttered closed, and I undressed the unconscious one.
She bore some rather… interesting clothing, to make a vast understatement. I realized why she wore the cloak that she did, for otherwise, she would certainly die of cold. I felt strange wearing her rather revealing clothing, but I consoled myself with the notion that tonight’s murder would make up for the inconvenience. I left the room after pulling my own cloak over my shoulders and warned the shopkeeper to stay out of the other room. He nodded again, too terrified for speech.
I broke out into the fresh night air, feeling that I had been cleansed from a disease. I walked toward the castle briskly, anxious to carry on with my mission. Upon approaching the castle gates, I was stopped by a bored looking guard. The Imperial man halted me with an outstretched hand, and slowly eyed me from bottom to top. I was disgusted by his conduct, but I decided it would be for the best to give him a show. To act out my part, one might say.
I placed one hand on my waist, and posed rather suggestively. I was surprised at my own behavior, but reasoned that it was the sign of a good liar. Such things would help me in my extensive work.
“I’m afraid you can’t go inside, ma’am,” he barely choked out. I knew he would let me in. I would make him let me in.
“Don’t worry about anything, sir. I have an appointment. With Raziel, your boss,” I purred. It is interesting how men could be so easily swayed with the various tones of voice. Hoping to completely shape his mind to MY will, I moved in closer and threw my other arm around his shoulder. Looking him boldly in the eye, I whispered, “I could repay you later tonight if you let me in.”
He was all mine. He knew what I meant, though I didn’t really mean it. In fact, he couldn’t have opened the gates faster. I did my job well. With a final word of false gratitude, I slipped into the castle’s courtyard. It was silent, and with good reason. The gate would keep out most resistance. However, I had been warned to expect heavy resistance. It was haunting to only encounter silence and darkness. When I arrived at the front door unabated, I stepped inside the castle.
This chapter doesn't have as much action, but there has to be a boring one every now and then Part 4- Acting the Part
She’s here to kill the same target as you, said the familiar voice in my head. She killed Dante Gallias, and now she’s here to kill Raziel. She was directly to my right when I leaped off of the roof. Landing silently behind the bloodsucker, I grabbed her blood red hair and slammed it through the display window of the smithy. She didn’t struggle as I jumped into the store and dragged her in.
“Don’t speak and there won’t be trouble,” I said to the frightened storekeeper. He nodded in agreement and cowered back to the nearest wall. I pulled Maria into a separate room and slammed the door shut. Dropping her crudely onto the floor, I pointed my dagger at her throat.
“What are you doing here? Are you out to kill someone?” I demanded, prepared to pin her to the floor, regardless of whether or not she would stay dead.
“I suppose I am, Dunmer. I was planning on having some fun first, though,” she replied in her usual seductive voice.
“Who are you going to kill, Maria?”
“Oh, just a mean old orc, if you must know. My, did you change somehow? Whatever you did, it certainly makes you look more luscious. I could drink you dry right now if you weren’t pointing that nasty blade at me.”
“Shut up, you depraved witch,” I screamed at the lip-licking vampire. I knew what she was talking about. I knew EXACTLY what she was talking about.
“Oh, now I see! Those eyes, they’re just gorgeous, Dunmer. They must… mean something.”
“How soon do you wish to die?” I seethed bitterly. I was quite honestly primed to answer that question for her.
“Ah, the eyes of Mehrunes Dagon’s little servant! That’s where I recognize them! The gaunt young girl and several others before you. I lived long enough to put significance to those eyes. So, you’re a puppet of Mehrunes now?” Once again the devil, Maria, licked her lips in delight.
“And you,” I spoke out of hatred, “are the servant of Sheogorath. You are an insane harlot.”
“That is what I am,” she exclaimed with sarcastic pride. “An insane harlot. Doesn’t that just fit me? Well, things are interesting again. Two servants of Daedra in eternal conflict.”
“Not quite, Maria. When I learn how to kill you for good, I will never have to worry about you again. This I promise you.” Finally ending this infuriating rant from the vampire, I kicked her head with rage driven force. Her eyes fluttered closed, and I undressed the unconscious one.
She bore some rather… interesting clothing, to make a vast understatement. I realized why she wore the cloak that she did, for otherwise, she would certainly die of cold. I felt strange wearing her rather revealing clothing, but I consoled myself with the notion that tonight’s murder would make up for the inconvenience. I left the room after pulling my own cloak over my shoulders and warned the shopkeeper to stay out of the other room. He nodded again, too terrified for speech.
I broke out into the fresh night air, feeling that I had been cleansed from a disease. I walked toward the castle briskly, anxious to carry on with my mission. Upon approaching the castle gates, I was stopped by a bored looking guard. The Imperial man halted me with an outstretched hand, and slowly eyed me from bottom to top. I was disgusted by his conduct, but I decided it would be for the best to give him a show. To act out my part, one might say.
I placed one hand on my waist, and posed rather suggestively. I was surprised at my own behavior, but reasoned that it was the sign of a good liar. Such things would help me in my extensive work.
“I’m afraid you can’t go inside, ma’am,” he barely choked out. I knew he would let me in. I would make him let me in.
“Don’t worry about anything, sir. I have an appointment. With Raziel, your boss,” I purred. It is interesting how men could be so easily swayed with the various tones of voice. Hoping to completely shape his mind to MY will, I moved in closer and threw my other arm around his shoulder. Looking him boldly in the eye, I whispered, “I could repay you later tonight if you let me in.”
He was all mine. He knew what I meant, though I didn’t really mean it. In fact, he couldn’t have opened the gates faster. I did my job well. With a final word of false gratitude, I slipped into the castle’s courtyard. It was silent, and with good reason. The gate would keep out most resistance. However, I had been warned to expect heavy resistance. It was haunting to only encounter silence and darkness. When I arrived at the front door unabated, I stepped inside the castle.
Surprised I missed this story till now. Very intriguing. Reminds me of a non-elderscrolls related story I wrote once about a former assassian that ends up being forced to save a kingdom... Even though they're completly different plots and everything. Keep writing I want to see whats next.
I want to see whats next.
Haha, men, they're such fools. Unable to fight their own hormones. Wait a minute, I'm a man. Umm, I didn't say anything. 
Anyway, nice update and bring in the next one soon.
Anyway, nice update and bring in the next one soon.
Part 5-Love Hurts
The foyer was dimly lit, having only four torches to illuminate the area. I was briefed on the general layout of the castle. The stairwell I needed to be in was supposed to be to the east. Ah and there it was! I had memorized the entire map in the few hours I had before I left the Leaping Lion. I climbed up the winding stair case, not stopping for anything or anyone. It felt like a half hour, though it obviously wasn’t, before I reached the appropriate floor. I wandered around the various halls and hallways until I reached the room of the orc, Raziel.
I slowly opened the door. As I peered into the strangely hushed room, I honestly expected to find Raziel dead. I had, engraved in my mind, a picture of Dante Gallias’ cold, dead face. I would have only been partially surprised if his face was replaced with Raziel’s. Suddenly, the orc burst from out of his bedroom. His stern face told me I was late.
“By the Nine, woman! How much longer were you planning on delaying?” he raged.
“Please, forgive me, master! I was held up by the man at the front gate. I swear, they can never keep their hands to themselves!” I lied. My statement sickened me. The fawning, ‘master’ spewing role I had assumed was… the farthest thing from my true self. However, I knew this was the only easy was to get so close to Raziel and be able to get away with it.
“Alright then, just… hurry up. And do keep quiet, I wouldn’t want to disturb anybody else,” he said, more calmly this time. I voiced my agreement, and then asked for a spare room that I could change clothes in. He pointed me to a room off to my right. I went inside and readied myself for the next several minutes. Or hours. Whatever it would take to get an open shot at this troublesome orc, I would do it.
I took off my robes, which I now yearned for, and remained in the immodest clothing of Maria. I grasped my dagger in my hand and formulated a brief, but practical plan. I slid the knife into the light belt that accompanied Maria’s outfit and walked out of my room and into Raziel’s.
He was readying himself elsewhere, so I had time to arrange his quarters as I wished them. I slid the dagger underneath his relatively low bed and then sat on the extremely comfortable piece of furniture. When I heard the orc walking towards the room, I braced myself and muttered a quick prayer to Mehrunes.
The orc, upon walking in, assumed a whole new persona. He went from a short tempered, yet mild mannered ex-soldier to an aggressive and lustful creature. A creature driven by pure instinct. He rushed to me and began all sorts of acts. A very active man, Raziel was. He was so greatly focused on such an activity that he never saw me reach under the bed to grasp the blade. Or maybe he did, but he suspected it was out of pleasure of some sort. Unfortunately for him, such thinking was about to cease. Without the slightest of changes in expression, I brought the dagger up from the floor and plunged it deep into his neck. I pulled it out gradually, and when his head dropped onto my exposed chest, I kicked the corpse off of me.
“Vercindelle, you owe me so much for this,” I muttered softly. Forsaking Maria’s clothing, I rummaged about in Raziel’s shelves until I discovered a suitable outfit. On top of this I pulled on my cloak, which I pulled and tied rather tightly. It felt amazing to have clothing on again. I promptly left the orc’s room and exited the castle. However, upon slinking out of the gates and into freedom, I was stopped by the ambitious Imperial man. Eager to return to the Leaping Lion, I turned around and planted my lips on his.
“Are you pleased, now?!” I cried at the dazed man, and stalked off. If I never had to see a man again, save Vercindelle or a corpse, it would never be too soon. I eventually reached the tavern, entering, once again, the vacant pub that I had seen the night before. I trudged into Vercindelle’s office, feeling the effects of tonight’s questionable going ons.
The foyer was dimly lit, having only four torches to illuminate the area. I was briefed on the general layout of the castle. The stairwell I needed to be in was supposed to be to the east. Ah and there it was! I had memorized the entire map in the few hours I had before I left the Leaping Lion. I climbed up the winding stair case, not stopping for anything or anyone. It felt like a half hour, though it obviously wasn’t, before I reached the appropriate floor. I wandered around the various halls and hallways until I reached the room of the orc, Raziel.
I slowly opened the door. As I peered into the strangely hushed room, I honestly expected to find Raziel dead. I had, engraved in my mind, a picture of Dante Gallias’ cold, dead face. I would have only been partially surprised if his face was replaced with Raziel’s. Suddenly, the orc burst from out of his bedroom. His stern face told me I was late.
“By the Nine, woman! How much longer were you planning on delaying?” he raged.
“Please, forgive me, master! I was held up by the man at the front gate. I swear, they can never keep their hands to themselves!” I lied. My statement sickened me. The fawning, ‘master’ spewing role I had assumed was… the farthest thing from my true self. However, I knew this was the only easy was to get so close to Raziel and be able to get away with it.
“Alright then, just… hurry up. And do keep quiet, I wouldn’t want to disturb anybody else,” he said, more calmly this time. I voiced my agreement, and then asked for a spare room that I could change clothes in. He pointed me to a room off to my right. I went inside and readied myself for the next several minutes. Or hours. Whatever it would take to get an open shot at this troublesome orc, I would do it.
I took off my robes, which I now yearned for, and remained in the immodest clothing of Maria. I grasped my dagger in my hand and formulated a brief, but practical plan. I slid the knife into the light belt that accompanied Maria’s outfit and walked out of my room and into Raziel’s.
He was readying himself elsewhere, so I had time to arrange his quarters as I wished them. I slid the dagger underneath his relatively low bed and then sat on the extremely comfortable piece of furniture. When I heard the orc walking towards the room, I braced myself and muttered a quick prayer to Mehrunes.
The orc, upon walking in, assumed a whole new persona. He went from a short tempered, yet mild mannered ex-soldier to an aggressive and lustful creature. A creature driven by pure instinct. He rushed to me and began all sorts of acts. A very active man, Raziel was. He was so greatly focused on such an activity that he never saw me reach under the bed to grasp the blade. Or maybe he did, but he suspected it was out of pleasure of some sort. Unfortunately for him, such thinking was about to cease. Without the slightest of changes in expression, I brought the dagger up from the floor and plunged it deep into his neck. I pulled it out gradually, and when his head dropped onto my exposed chest, I kicked the corpse off of me.
“Vercindelle, you owe me so much for this,” I muttered softly. Forsaking Maria’s clothing, I rummaged about in Raziel’s shelves until I discovered a suitable outfit. On top of this I pulled on my cloak, which I pulled and tied rather tightly. It felt amazing to have clothing on again. I promptly left the orc’s room and exited the castle. However, upon slinking out of the gates and into freedom, I was stopped by the ambitious Imperial man. Eager to return to the Leaping Lion, I turned around and planted my lips on his.
“Are you pleased, now?!” I cried at the dazed man, and stalked off. If I never had to see a man again, save Vercindelle or a corpse, it would never be too soon. I eventually reached the tavern, entering, once again, the vacant pub that I had seen the night before. I trudged into Vercindelle’s office, feeling the effects of tonight’s questionable going ons.
QUOTE(Andric @ Mar 15 2006, 02:21 AM)
Surprised I missed this story till now. Very intriguing. Reminds me of a non-elderscrolls related story I wrote once about a former assassian that ends up being forced to save a kingdom... Even though they're completly different plots and everything. Keep writing I want to see whats next.
I want to see whats next.ah, andric! you mistake me! this certainly will NOT end up as an assassin who saves the kingdom. this will turn out much more... tragic. i'd love to say more, but my future plans are only for me. for now.
I´m sorry for not commenting in a very long time to this great story, but I´ll tell you what I´m gonna do:
I´m going to copy and paste it into a word -document and thoroughly read it all through once again....this story desreves a good reading!
I´m going to copy and paste it into a word -document and thoroughly read it all through once again....this story desreves a good reading!
I have just read this entire story from the beginning- and it is remarkable. Although the atmosphere is dark, it is never so oppressive as to stop me wanting to know what will happen next. You have pulled off the difficult feat of creating an unsympathetic character who is nevertheless someone we simply have to watch. Outstanding.
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